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 his advances to Mrs. Million's feelings, by a particular art of pleasing; that is, an art which was for the particular person alone, whom he was at any time addressing, and which was founded on his particular knowledge of that person's character.

"How beautiful the old hall looked to-day! It is a scene which can only be met with in ancient families."

"Ah! there is nothing like old families!" remarked Mrs. Million, with all the awkward feelings of a nouveau riche.

"Do you think so?" said Vivian; "I once thought so myself, but I confess that my opinion is greatly changed.—After all, what is noble blood? My eye is now resting on a crowd of honourables, and yet, being among them, do we treat them in a manner differing in any way from that which we should employ to any individuals of a lower caste, who were equally uninteresting?"

"Certainly not," said Mrs. Million.